When I was a kid all I wanted was to be an adult. I wanted to be seen, heard, acknowledged and believed. I wanted access to the adult conversations, jokes, toys, bedtime, and the word “no”. That’s right, I wanted to be able to say no and not get my parents into a tizzy and me sent to my room.

It made absolutely no sense that the old people got to do the fun stuff. Some of it must have been magic, with my mother definitely being a witch. Not the ugly, wart on the nose, crackling laugh, scary witch, but the awesome kind. She never shared her magical talents with us kids but she definitely had them.

The fact that my folks knew Santa personally was a tantalizing and unspoken secret. I knew for a fact that my father helped Santa with unloading the gifts and some of the assembly.

But honestly, not letting the shorter people in the house share in the magic seemed selfish. Plus, their excuse was just insulting. “You’re too young to understand.” Seriously? I knew all about the bad guys under my bed and in my closet, how could I not understand witchcraft and Santa? It was them who didn’t understand. Not believing me about the secret boogeyman but I believed them and their magical secrets, the gall!

Even though I was unable to enjoy in the adult games and suffered the humiliation of their denial of my awareness, I still desired to join that club. I wanted to drive, to go to an R rated movie without a chaperone, sit in the comfy seats rather than the floor, or simply be able to sit rather than stand. I wanted to be offered the big bowl of ice cream or asked if I wanted the nasty tasting Brussels sprouts and the option to stay up all night.

Again, I was too young. Then my revenge would be that when I was old enough I would let all of the young people in on the magic. I was going to share all of the secrets and I would believe the youngsters when they tried to warn me about the boogeyman. No more nasty Brussels sprouts nor early bedtimes. No more secret meetings with Santa and no more damn shots. That was the biggest for me. I never understood how pain and tears kept me healthy.

Finally the day came when I was initiated into the adult club. I will tell you the exact moment: it’s when I had to furnish cash to pay for myself. I not only had to start forking over cash but I was expected to be responsible. What? Ah, I did not see Responsibility in any of the fine print. What a scam. Plus, PLUS!, there’s no return policy.

Once the lack of a return policy sunk in I understood. And as I got even older I realized that it was me, when I was a youngster, that had the better deal.

I’m very grateful for the magic, the secrets, and blind bliss the adults tried to keep me in or out of. Not knowing is much better than knowing, but if I told my 13 year old self that little tidbit my 13 year old smarty know-it-all wouldn’t believe me.

If I could have one wish come true it would be that I could appreciate the magic all around me. But, unfortunately being an adult tends to cure any magical aliment.

 

E.T. Aka Annie

“Knowledge is Power, Knowing is Empowering.” E.J.A.T.